


Veins

by orphan_account



Category: The Glass Scientists (Webcomic), The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - Robert Louis Stevenson
Genre: Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Deal With It, Disabled Character, Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, Hurt/Comfort, It existed before the name for it did, Joint dislocations, M/M, i'm projecting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 22:10:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19981321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Waking up with a sore back was not in Jekyll’s to-do list, and neither was trying to brush his hair and dislocating his shoulder. To say he was irritable was an understatement, he hadn’t been awake even fifteen minutes, and the day was already crumbling to pieces beneath his swan necked fingers.





	Veins

Waking up with a sore back was not in Jekyll’s to-do list, and neither was trying to brush his hair and dislocating his shoulder. To say he was irritable was an understatement, he hadn’t been awake even fifteen minutes, and the day was already crumbling to pieces beneath his swan necked fingers. He had obviously pushed himself too far the other night, hellbent on succeeding in a testy experiment that required constant attention and maintenance.

After another fifteen minutes of talking to himself, trying to work the nerve up to correct the cause of the strange numbing pain creeping through his arm, he finally brought himself to do it. Jekyll took several deep breaths, grimacing in anticipation, before grabbing his elbow and twisting the aforementioned shoulder back into its socket. With a stomach-turning crunch, it slid into place, relieving the creeping pain and replacing it with something much more substantial.

Breathing heavily through his nose to try alleviate any of the burn in his arm, Jekyll made to straighten his back before black dots splattered across his vision. Immediately moving to lay back down, he more so fell than recline onto his pillow. 

A grand day it was indeed, with stretched ligaments and blood swelling his legs up and the beginnings of a convulsing stomach ache. Jekyll’s hips hurt and grinded with each movement, and his shoulder throbbed with his too fast heartbeat. His feet felt like lead, and when he glanced down he cringed at the sight of them. Once narrow and pale, completely normal, they were now swollen thrice their size and the noxious purple of an old bruise. 

The only thing Jekyll could even begin to think about at the moment was laying down and trying to go to sleep. Poole was well versed enough in his master’s health to know that at this point in the day, if he wasn’t up, to go ahead and cancel all plans. Jekyll had made it quite clear to him when he had begun to work here, that his immune system was weak and his body even more so. The natural drizzle of London was agonizing at times, and the heat that would rise in the depths of Summer even more so, when to others both would be considered enjoyable.

Several more hours like that passed, with Jekyll lying prone and unable to move in his bed. Breathing was an effort, with his ribs sliding around, and standing was out of the question with the dizziness still clouding his brain from that morning. Food wasn’t even a concern, what with nausea clutching at his stomach and throat, and burning his abdomen. He had already been sick once that day, undigested food from the afternoon prior, burning his throat and lodging in his sinuses. He had heaved and choked until strings of green bile had coated his front, and Poole had come rushing in to futilely comfort him and clean up the mess.

How Jekyll hated it! The time he could be using that he was forced to waste, just to have to waste more and more inevitably. It was far too easy to become wrapped in the devouring pain and stiffness of his faulty joints, and the failure of his faulty stomach, and the too fast, too fleeting beat of his faulty heart. His entire body was faulty, with not a single thing successful. Jekyll wondered if this is what drove his idol’s creation to such feats of wrath, the destruction of a singular family over the gift of life. He could not see blame in the creature, if Frankenstein truly brought such agony to a soul lain long to rest. 

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It was with these suffocating thoughts that Gabriel found his oldest friend, sweat stiff and pained in all his movements. The entire room smelled of acid, despite the best attempts of Jekyll’s staff, and the man himself was bare-chested from where he was unsuccessful with raising his arms to put a fresh linen on. 

Henry Jekyll made quite an impression at that moment, Gabriel had not seen him in such a state in many years, yet even he could not ignore the increasing days spent in his room, refusing all company. It stung Gabriel to the core, but seeing the discomfort etched into Jekyll’s face, he could not fault the man. He himself would’ve done the same if struggles such as this plagued him so chronically. Gabriel had nothing but the highest respect for his gentle friend, pride in his character, his intellect, and his heart. 

Taking an even breath to calm his nerves, Gabriel steeled himself and walked towards the prone form on the bed, hoping he would not incite agitation to both his mind and body. Sighing when his footsteps did not even cause Henry’s head to turn, he removed his gloves and efficiently folded and placed the silk onto the spare bedside table. Gabriel steadily walked around the bed, before peering over at the corpse-like form of dear Harry, and faintly murmured, “Henry?”

He did not receive nor expect a response, but the added approximation was not a good one, and only made Gabriel all the more concerned, what with the scent of sick and sweat all that more reproachful close up, and the site of Harry’s shivering form filling his stomach with dread. Harry was absolutely rancid, only adding to his pained state, and it was obvious he was unable to move by himself. It was also obvious that, despite all Henry’s attempts to ignore him, that Gabriel was going to be the help he required. 

Smiling faintly irritation crinkling Harry’s forehead and nose, he said “You know, I would’ve come much quicker if you had just sent someone.” before beginning to remove his overcoat.   
Still steadily ignoring his most affectionate companion, Henry glowered at the ceiling and resolutely set his jaw, refusing to speak. 

Sighing, Gabriel replied to the silence. “I’m going to aid you to the bath, and bathe you now.” And before the flustered man beneath him would work through his sudden sputtering, he added on something wry. “Don’t even act flustered, I’ve enjoyed it all before,” and grinned like a cat when Henry’s pale face flushed vivaciously. 

Leaning down and working his broad hands under Henry’s thin back and lean thighs, he huffed and hefted him up. Despite the narrow body and delicate bone structure, Henry was well taken care of, and surprisingly heavy. Standing to his full height, carrying his important load, Gabriel set out to Henry's personal bathing chambers. It was times like this that he was grateful for the privacy his Harry cherished so dearly, for the chambers were only a door away, preventing any staff that might gossip from even a glimpse of them. Gabriel was also exceedingly grateful for Poole’s open mindedness and unwavering loyalty to his master. When Gabriel had asked him upon entry way to prepare a warm bath, the man hadn’t blinked an eye. 

Placing his Harry on the padded carpet by the steaming bath, he murmured a fast “Stay still.” before crouching down with him and beginning to undo his trousers. Gabriel steadfastly ignored Henry’s hands fluttering around, and the broken sounding “Gabe, I can’t,” that came from him. Finishing his undressing, he then stood and began to undress himself, refusing to acknowledge the flush painting his cheeks and nose. Once accomplished, he once again picked his love up, before stepping into the warm bath and settling them both. 

“I told you I would,” Gabriel murmured, a broad smiling breaking his quiet facade once he looked at Henry’s disgruntled face. He was trying his best to appear angry while also relaxing into the soothing water, and the image reminded Gabriel largely of his cat when she was once caught in the rain. “Now, let me take care of you.”

Ignoring the grumbling Henry responded with, Gabriel reached out and into the basket by the large tub, grabbing the first soap he spotted and turning to face Harry. During this motion he accidentally jostled Henry, causing a short yelp to escape his mouth before he bit his lip, brow heavy against his face at the pain. Guilt immediately burst through Gabriel’s chest, and opening his mouth, he burst out an apology interrupted by Harry. “It’s fine, really,” He began, voice rusted and slow like crushed velvet from disuse that day. “I dislocated it this morning. I knew better than to raise my shoulders like I did.” He smiled self-deprecatingly as he spoke, Scottish drawl making the faint whispers almost incoherent. 

Gabriel could only frown at him as he rubbed his wet shoulder, staring at the water they sat in. Deciding something very quickly, he glanced at the soap in his hand, noting the herbs used in it, before lathering his hands with the scented block and beginning to firmly massage Henry’s shoulders. As he began this, he said something that they both needed to hear. “It wasn’t your fault. It has never been your fault” 

Waving a hand at Harry when he opened his mouth to argue, Gabriel continued, “You cannot blame anybody for the way your body was formed, Harry love, God created you this way, and you are perfect.” 

He continued his massage as he spoke, spreading from Harry’s shoulders to his tense spine, then his arms, and thin hands. He wove poetry throughout the bath, lavender and thyme heady in the air. He spoke of the gorgeous skin Henry was so proud of, thin and almost translucent in its creation. He spoke of Henry’s thick auburn hair as he washed it, not the clashing orange most had, but a delightful and pleasing red, deep and shiny. Of Henry’s warm brown eyes, bright like whiskey in the light. Gabriel spoke until his voice was coarse, and soothed until his hands cramped, until Henry was malleable and breathing deeply, finally relaxed and clean. 

Only then did Gabriel allow the quiet to sweep Harry into his arms, and to allow him to nuzzle his face into his now clean hair. The stench of sweat and pain long gone, he was as if a new person. It seemed that the majority of his aches had been removed as well, the lavender and warm heat doing well to soothe his locked joints and drawn muscles. 

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Henry was lulled and comfortable, leaning against Gabriel’s broad chest and slowly dozing. He barely even moved when he felt Gabriel lift him up, only shivering when the cold air hit his skin, but even that was fleeting. He was quickly dressed in clean clothing, before carried off to his room again.

He opened his eyes partially once there, seeing that the bed had been remade with clean fabrics, and noting that the horrific scene was cleaned and refreshed. As he was lain down and fawned over, he felt Gabriel’s hands combing through the hair he had preached on earlier, before beginning to brush it. It was almost as soothing as the bath, and made his drowsiness develop into an exhaustion deep and strong. 

Barely conscious, he halfheartedly noticed the bedding shifting, and felt Gabriel slide into the bed with him. It made him smile weakly, that his love would abandon all pretenses to aid him. That he was loved in the first place, that someone would dedicate a day to helping him, to caring for him. 

Content and warm and calmed, Henry Jekyll, renowned alchemist and sufferer of many an ailment, allowed himself to drift off into sleep, knowing that with Gabriel there nightmares would not haunt him. Gabriel calmly laid there with him, not quite tired, but not awake enough for a book. Instead he watched him, noting any bruises on his arms or face and promising himself to buy a salve tomorrow for them. The night wore on, and all was calm.


End file.
